


Once Upon a Stardust

by nerdywriter15



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Stardust AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-04 04:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10267874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdywriter15/pseuds/nerdywriter15
Summary: Follows the basic plot of the movie Stardust with a Captain Swan twist. In an attempt to win the affection of Neal Cassidy, Emma Swan leaves her home in the town of Storybrooke and travels to the Kingdom of Misthaven in search of a fallen star. Once there, she discovers that the star is actually a man who goes by the name of Killian Jones.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story has previously been posted on FFN and Tumblr, but it's not complete yet. I'll be gradually moving it over here until the next chapter is ready. Updates have been (and will probably continue to be) slow, but I promise I *will* finish it.

There is a town in Maine, a town called Storybrooke, which to the causal observer appears to be as normal as a town can possibly be. Its residents go about their daily lives — eating, working, sleeping, loving — with scarcely a care in the world. Hardly any of them can remember anything of interest happening in their quiet little town, and most of them prefer it that way.

However, there is a legend that the town of Storybrooke is the one place on earth where the realm of Magic spills into our own. It sits at the edge of a large forest, which is separated from the rest of the town by a Brooke. It is said that if one crosses the Brooke, they will find themselves in the Kingdom of Misthaven, a land of enchantment and adventure.

Since the very beginning days of Storybrooke, there has been a law that no one shall cross the Brooke and go into the forest, and a guard has always been stationed at the Brooke's edge to prevent people from doing just that. But the guards have very seldom been needed. Hardly any of the citizens of Storybrooke — whether because of the law, fear of the unknown, or blatant disinterest — have attempted to cross.

However, there was a boy many years ago who did cross the Brooke, which was something that no one in living memory had ever dared to do before. His courageous decision (or as some would say, stupid impulse) would set in motion the events that would lead to one of the most epic love stories of all time.

And that, dear reader, is where our story begins.

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has let comments, kudos, etc! You guys make my day!

"You want me to let you do  _what_ , boy?" the old woman asked incredulously, staring at the blonde-haired boy before her with a look of utter disbelief written across her face.

"Just like I said before," David Swan replied, his jaw set and his blue eyes glittering with defiance. "I want you to let me cross the Brooke." At that the old woman sighed. She had been at this job for nearly eighty years, so long that most of the people of the town had forgotten her name and had taken to simply calling her Granny. In that time, plenty of people had claimed that they wanted to cross the Brooke. Most of them were easily dissuaded, but she could tell that David would not be. He had a certain look on his face, the look that only the most determined of potential trespassers carried.

"You know that I can't let you cross," she said, subtly shifting her gaze towards the crossbow that sat only feet from her, and once again meeting David's gaze. His eyes widened for a moment as he realized her meaning. The moment was brief however; his expression once again became one of determination. Granny braced herself, getting ready for a fight. She knew that she could stop him from crossing easily, even without the use of her crossbow (that was for things on the other side that were much more dangerous than him); she was much more limber than she looked. However, she wasn't as young as she used to be, and — if she was being honest with herself — she didn't really feel like dealing with the situation. Although the fact that he still hadn't left meant that she would probably be forced to.

She was therefore incredibly surprised when he suddenly hung his head in a gesture of defeat. "You're right," he said quietly. "I know that that's the rule. I guess I'll be going now."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Granny reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Thank you, my boy. Give my best to your mother when you get home," she said as she turned around.

And that split second when her back was turned was all that the boy needed to get past her. She felt a rush of air next to her, and the next second saw David sprinting toward the Brooke and clearing it in one leap. For a moment, she contemplated stopping him. A simple flip over the Brooke and a well-aimed kick to his shin would be enough to down him. But for some reason she held back.

Let the boy cross. He would more than likely be fine. And when he came back he might finally understand why she (normally) let no one cross the Brooke.

~/~

David ran as fast as he could, the wind whipping through his hair. He had never felt so invigorated in his life. He had done it. He had crossed the Brooke. Even though he knew that there wasn't anything past it other than trees and bushes, he couldn't stop the sense of pride that had begun to flare through his chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Granny was nowhere in sight, and allowed himself to slow to a walk. He contemplated heading back, but decided that he would rather not face Granny's wrath so soon. He was loathe to admit it to anyone, but her crossbow did make him feel slightly uneasy.

As he walked, he was surprised to see that the forest seemed to get lighter the further into it he ventured. Curious to see what the source of this light was, he once again sped up to a full sprint. He suddenly found himself at the edge of a small cliff, and skidded to a rapid halt, his jaw falling open in shock. But it wasn't the fact that he had almost fallen and broken his leg (and possibly his neck) which surprised him. Rather, it was the fact that the light that was coming from what appeared to be a large town that sat at the bottom of the incline.

For a moment, all he could do was stare.  _So the legends are true_  he thought excitedly, unable to tear his gaze away from — what in his eyes seemed to be — the miracle before him. Giving no thought to the dangers that could possibly be awaiting him there, he carefully made his way down the hill, determined to explore the new world that he had found himself in.

When he got to the bottom of the hill and entered the town, he found himself at the edge of a large market. He began to wander through, his mouth falling open in awe. Although some aspects of the town and market reminded of home, he couldn't help but feel as though he had walked back in time. Instead of the modern buildings and cars that he had left behind in Storybrooke, he found himself staring at buildings that seemed like they had been built hundreds of years ago.

But the oldness of the buildings was not the only thing that surprised him. The vendors at the market were all working out of covered wagons, and were selling a variety of things that he had never seen before. Brightly colored bottles filled with strange substances littered the tables. They sat next to herbs and plants that he had no names for. And he almost jumped out of his skin when he passed a jar full of white round objects, which he discovered were eyes when they all simultaneously turned their gaze upon him.

He was so wrapped up in the sights before him that he almost didn't notice the old woman walking towards him. He couldn't make out her face from so far away, and fearing that it was Granny coming after him with her crossbow, he hurriedly ducked behind one of the wagons, crouching down and peeking out from behind it. When the woman came close enough for him to see her face, he breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that Granny had not decided to follow him.

His relief was short lived, however. He stood up and was just about rejoin the crowd when he saw a hand flying towards him and felt the sting of something sharp colliding with his chin. The hit hadn't been that hard, but he was caught by surprise and immediately fell backwards onto the ground.

He felt something hot and sticky running down his chin. He brushed his fingers against the area and pulled them away to see a small amount of blood dripping from them.  _That's going to leave a scar_ , he thought dejectedly before his attention was pulled away from his unfortunate injury by a loud voice.

"Who are you, and why are you sneaking around?"

His gaze snapped up to the figure standing before him: a woman with dark black hair and deep green eyes who seemed to be about his age. In her right hand, she held a small jewelry box, which was obviously what had cut him. And although he was angry that she had done so, he couldn't help a traitorous thought from creeping into his brain:  _she was beautiful_.

"You're a girl!" he exclaimed, slightly shocked that someone so petite had been able to floor him so easily.

"Woman," she corrected, her tone terse. "Now I'm going to ask you again, what were you doing sneaking around?"

"I wasn't sneaking around." She raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. "Okay, I was sneaking around, but I didn't mean any harm by it," he said quickly. "I just…I'm not really supposed to be here, and I was hiding from someone…Granny," he stuttered, becoming more and more agitated.

"You were hiding from your grandmother?" the brunette asked.

"No, she's not…well she kind of…it's just that…," he said struggling to find the words. He looked down in embarrassment, feeling his face turning red. A moment later he heard chuckling and looked up to see her extending her hand towards him. He accepted it, and she helped to pull him to his feet.

"It's okay," she said, offering him a kind smile, which he couldn't help but return. "I'm sorry for hitting you," she went on. "But you can't be too careful around here."

"What made you change your mind about me?"

She smirked. "No one who was really dangerous would ever looked as flustered as you do right now," she laughed.

He wanted to be angry, and come back with some witty retort, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing along with her as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"I suppose I should give you something to say sorry punching you in the face," she said once they finally stopped giggling.

"You don't have to," he said, taken aback by her gesture. "You were just being careful."

"But I want to," she replied, taking his hand to lead him to the tables at the front of the wagon. She started looking them over, her brow furrowed in concentration, making it clear that she was searching for something very specific. He wanted to ask her what it was that she was so determined to find, but he feared what she would do to him if he dared to break her focus.

Eventually her frown turned to a smile and she reached out to grab something. She held it up triumphantly, and David was able to see that it was a small, white flower.

"This is a snowdrop," she said, holding it out for his inspection. "I know it's not much, but please accept it as my way of saying sorry," she continued, tucking the small flower into his jacket pocket. "It'll bring you luck."

"It's beautiful," he said, his eyes never leaving hers, trying to convey that the snow drop was not the only thing that he found beautiful. She must have understood — at least he hoped she did — because her cheeks became flushed and her eyes flicked towards the ground in embarrassment.

His gaze followed hers to the floor, where a glint of silver caught his eye. Looking more closely, he saw a thin chain wrapped around her ankle. Craning his head, he saw that it dragged along behind her towards the back of the carriage.

"What's that?" he asked. "That thing around your ankle, what is it?"

The smile could not have faded from her face any faster. "My chain," she said quietly. "It keeps me from leaving."

"What do you mean it keeps you from leaving?"

"See that woman over there?" she said, pointing across the market to a woman in a purple dress with curly blonde hair that stuck out every which way. "Her name is Maleficent. I used to be a princess, but she tricked me into becoming her slave. This keeps me tethered to her. I'll only be free once she's dead."

"There must be a way for you to escape!" David exclaimed, suddenly outraged.

She smiled sadly back at him. "Are you saying you're going to free me?" she asked. "That you're my knight in shining armor? My very own Prince Charming?"

He could tell that she was mocking him. Determined to prove her wrong, he dug around in his pocket until he found his Swiss Army Knife. Kneeling down, he took the chain in his hands, and — with very little effort — cut it. He smiled in triumph. But that triumph was short lived; not a moment later the two separate pieces of the chain melded themselves back together.

He looked up at her apologetically.

"I guess you're not destined to be my hero today, Charming," she said, sounding only slightly disappointed, as if she had already resigned herself to her fate.

He found that he didn't like seeing her sad. "I have a name, you know," he said hesitantly as he stood back up, hoping to once again lighten the mood. "It's David."

She considered that for a minute. "I still like Charming better," she said, returning his grin.

"Now that you know mine, I think it's only fair that you tell me yours," he said good-naturedly, hoping that he wasn't pushing too far.

She stared back at him, looking as though she was once again considering something, looking for some answer. "It'll cost you a kiss," she said a moment later — her expression both flirtatious and determined — as she tapped her cheek softly.

He looked at her quizzically, silently asking whether she was serious. When she returned his smile and tapped her cheek again, he blushed before leaning in.

At the very last second she turned her head, meeting his lips with hers. At first he was frozen in shock, surprised at her forwardness. But it only took him a few moments to relax, and to return the kiss eagerly.

"It's Snow," she said, when they finally broke apart. "My name. It's Snow."

"That's a beautiful name," he said. "But if I can't free you, what do you want of me?"

Smiling again, she took his hand and led him back towards the cart.

~/~

While he had wanted so badly to stay with Snow, to try to find a way to free her, she had insisted that he return to Storybrooke. She was sure that she could never be free, and she didn't want to subject him to her same fate. And so David returned back to Storybrooke the next day, with only the snow drop (and the hope that he might find her again one day) to remind him of the beautiful princess that he had met and the night that they had shared.

However, nine months later, he received unexpected souvenir from his trip over the Brooke. One cold night in October, he heard a knock at the door, and opened it to see Granny standing before him with a basket in her hand. He was about to ask her why she was there when he noticed the basket's contents. Inside the basket, wrapped in a white blanket with the name Emma stitched on it in purple ribbon, was a sleeping baby. He didn't have to ask if the little girl was his, he knew she was (why else would Granny have brought her here?). And although he didn't know if he was capable of being a father, he couldn't help but feel a flash of happiness as he took the basket from Granny and brought his baby ( _his_  baby!) back into the house.

The next eighteen years in passed in the blink of an eye, and Emma Swan grew from an infant into a beautiful girl. But how Emma Swan became a girl is not what our story is about. Rather, it is about how she transformed from a girl into a strong, confident woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

Emma was nervous. Really nervous. The school's prom was only a few weeks away and she had yet to find a date. She decided that even though it was the boy who traditionally asked the girl, she would take her fate into her own hands and ask someone herself.

She had had a crush on Neal Cassidy for a while now, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally get him to notice her. And today was the day she was going to do it — the day she was finally going to ask him.

After being let out of her math class at the end of the day, she walked over to her locker, which was right across the hall from Neal's. She smiled when she saw that he was already there.

"Hey, Neal," she said in what she hoped was an upbeat tone, walking up to him just as he was closing his locker.

"Hey, Emma," he said in a confused, though not unkind, tone. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to continue.

"I was wondering if maybe —"

"Hey, Neal!" another voice behind them said, cutting her off. Both of them whipped their heads around to see another girl walking down the hallway toward them.

"Hey, Tamara!" he said, his voice full of much more warmth than it had had when he had greeted her.

"I was just talking with my friends about how prom is just around the corner. You got your eye on anyone for a date yet?" Tamara asked flirtatiously, leaning up against the locker.

"Maybe," he replied in an equally coy manner.

"Well don't take too long," she said, giving him a playful shove as Emma rolled her eyes in disgust. "Don't want all the good ones to get taken."

Neal chuckled. "Oh don't worry. I won't. I'll see you later, Tamara," he said, walking off down the hallway.

Emma watched him walk away, feeling her confident attitude rapidly deflating. He hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to her.

Unfortunately, her disappointment must have shown on her face.

"Oh my gosh, were  _you_  going to ask him out?!" Tamara exclaimed the moment Neal was out of earshot.

"None of your business," Emma said, before turning around and walking away.

"He'll never want you!" she heard Tamara call after her as she walked down the hallway. "Just like your mother never wanted you!"

Emma stopped in her tracks. Living in a small town, everyone knew everything about everybody. For Emma, that meant that everyone knew that her mother had left her in a basket on her father's doorstep with nothing but a blanket and a note to say goodbye.

"What did you say?" she said, turning around and fixing Tamara with an icy stare.

"I said that there is no way that any boy in this school, especially Neal Cassidy, would want you. Your own mother couldn't be bothered to stick around. So why would he?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Before she knew what had happened, Emma had rushed down the hallway and punched Tamara squarely in the face.

She tried not to let the fact that her mother had abandoned her bother her. But she couldn't help but feel a sting of anger every time the topic came up. If she was being honest with herself, most the frustration she was feeling in that moment wasn't even directed at Tamara. A lot of it was directed at her mother. But that didn't stop her from enjoying the sound of her fist connecting with Tamara's jaw.

She was still seething as all the students in the hallway gathered around them and a couple of teachers rushed out of their classrooms to keep the fight from escalating any further. She was only vaguely aware of everything happening around her, with only one thought dominating her mind.

She would show Tamara. She would show all of them. Emma Swan was going to go with Neal Cassidy to the prom, no matter what happened.

~/~

"Dad, I got a detention," she said looking in the mirror. After her anger had subsided, Emma was finally able to focus on a very real fact: she had gotten into a fight at school. A real fight. She knew that she was really lucky she hadn't been suspended (she suspected that it may have had to do with the fact that her father knew some people at the school). But a detention was still bad, and she still wasn't quite sure of the best way of breaking it to her father."Dad, today at school, I got a detention. Dad, today, I…"

"Got a detention." Emma spun around to see her father standing behind her, his expression unreadable. "Archie called me."

"Of course he did," Emma said rolling her eyes. Archibald Hopper, the school's principal, was good friends with her father. Even if he hadn't been, they lived in Storybrooke. News traveled fast. If her father hadn't heard it from Archie, he would've heard it from someone else (Leroy, probably).

"You gonna tell me why you thought it was okay to punch someone in the face?" he asked, walking to sit on her bed and patting the spot next to him.

"Not really," she said, staring down at her toes.

"Emma," he said firmly, "come on."

Emma sighed in annoyance — or was it apprehension? — as she crossed the room and plopped down on the bed. "I was trying to ask Neal to prom," she began tentatively, "but Tamara interrupted me. Then after he left she told me that if my own mother didn't want me then why would he?"

She looked up to see him staring at her with a sad expression before he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead and pull her into a hug. Although a part of her — the rebellious teenager part — wanted to pull away, she felt herself relaxing into the hug. She would never admit it out loud (at least not anymore), but her dad's hugs always seemed to make her feel better.

"You know that your mother didn't want to leave you right?" he asked. "You know that she just wanted to give you your best chance."

Emma sighed as she pulled away. "Then why can't you tell me more about her? You've always said you'll tell me when 'I'm older,'" she said, raising her fingers to make air quotes. "I'm eighteen, Dad. How much older do I have to get?"

"I know," he said, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. "You're right."

"So?" she said, trying to prompt him to talk.

"I think that at this point I'm not telling you more for me than for you. I just don't like thinking that you're going to be out there on your own soon," he said with a wistful smile, which Emma couldn't help but return. "I promise I'll tell you everything soon," he said. "I just need a little more time. Is that okay?"

Emma wanted to say that no, it wasn't okay. She had waited eighteen years for answers, and it was about time that she got some. But looking at the earnest expression on his face, she felt her anger melting away. She nodded at him before giving him another short hug. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while.

"So, prom," he said finally. "Don't you think you should be getting back out there and asking Neal?"

"I'm not going to prom."

"Why not?"

"Aren't I grounded? I mean I almost did get a suspension."

"This probably isn't what I should be saying as your dad, but I'm honestly not sure if I would have reacted any differently. You're a good kid. I think I can let this one slide."

Emma's face broke into a huge smile.

"Now you still need to ask him, right?" her dad asked, to which she nodded. "I think I have an idea."

~/~

Two hours later, Emma found herself standing outside of Neal's house, with a picnic basket in one hand and a large blanket tucked under the other arm. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and rang the doorbell, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot.

_This was a bad idea_ , she thought as she waited.  _He's probably going to think that you're some crazy stalker._

She was just getting ready to bolt when the door opened and she found herself standing face to face with Neal.

"Emma!" he exclaimed, surprised. "What…what are you doing here?"

"I…I…," she stuttered, "I thought maybe we could go hang out? Like maybe in the park or something? I've got some food in here," she said lifting the basket, waiting for him to say something. But all he did was look at her quizzically as an awkward silence stretched between them.

"Um…I," he said, finally breaking the silence as he looked back over his shoulder uncomfortably. "I've kinda got a lot of homework to do tonight, Em," he said, looking anywhere but her eyes.

Emma sighed in defeat. It was a Friday night. There was no homework he had to do that couldn't wait a day or two. He was making it glaringly obvious that he didn't want her.

"It's okay," she said quietly, fighting the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. "I understand. I'll see you on Monday, I guess."

"Yeah, see you, Em," he said, before closing the door in her face. Emma stared at it for a few moments before she turned around and walked away.

She had just gotten to the end of the block when the sound of rapid footsteps behind her made her turn around. She was surprised when she saw him running towards her. "I guess my calc homework can wait until tomorrow," he said breathlessly when he caught up with her. "So where are we going?" he asked.

"The park," she said, unable to keep a grin from stretching across her face. "Well then let's go," he replied, taking the blanket in his left hand so that he could hold her hand with his right. She nodded in agreement. They walked in a slightly awkward — though not uncomfortable — silence for a while until they reached the park.

"Picnic table or grass?" he asked once they got there.

"Grass," she replied, nodding her head toward the blanket and chuckling.

"Right," he said, laughing as well as he unfolded the blanket and shook it out. "I wasn't thinking," he said as they sat down.

"It's okay," Emma replied as she opened the basket. "So I've got some sandwiches and soda and stuff," she said, trying to quell her nerves as she pulled the food out. "I've also got some Apollo bars. I know that you like them," she said, pulling the chocolate from the basket and blushing furiously at the smile that began spreading across Neal's face.

"It looks great," he said, reaching for one of the sandwiches.

Like their walk, they ate in an awkward silence. In her mind, Emma had rehearsed a million times what she would say if she was ever to go on a date with Neal Cassidy (because that's what this was, right?). And yet, she found that she couldn't say any of them. Most frustratingly, she couldn't seem to ask the one question that had been flitting around her head for the past few months.

As the food disappeared, and the hour grew later, she realized it was now or never. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"So, Neal," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "I actually brought you out here because I had something that I wanted to ask you."

At that the small smile that had been resting on his face disappeared and he ran his hands over his face and through his hair as he let out a large sigh. "I think I know where this is going, Emma," he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

"You do?" she asked, feeling her heart sinking.

"You want to ask me to prom, right?"

"Yes."

He smiled sadly at her. "You know we're friends, right Emma?" he asked, to which she nodded.

"But I can't go to prom with someone like you. We're just not the same."

"So who are you going with?" she asked, fighting both the urge to cry and the small — though larger than she would like to admit — part of her that wanted to punch him in the face as well.

"I thought you knew, Em," he said, seemingly oblivious to the emotional turmoil that she was going through. "I'm asking Tamara."

She didn't answer, which he apparently took as an invitation to keep going.

"Look, Emma, it's nothing personal. We're just from different worlds, different social circles is all. And besides, Tamara is really serious about this. I heard that she's going all the way to Portland to get her dress and stuff. That really shows she wants me more than a picnic does, you know?"

Emma swallowed, fighting as hard as she could to push the feelings of anger and betrayal down. But she couldn't stop the blush of deep embarrassment that she could feel covering her face. She looked up at the sky, trying to look anywhere but Neal's face, and said a silent thank you to whoever might be listening that the stars were the only ones who had been there to witness her humiliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love you've shown this story. It really means a lot :)


	4. Chapter 3

But not even the stars were paying attention to Emma Swan that night. The attention of the universe was instead focused on the Dark Castle of Misthaven, where the queen was drawing her last breaths.

"I can't believe," Cora Mills said, her voice still terse despite the apparent effort she was having to put forth to speak, "that after all I've done for you, neither of you has been able to reach out and take the throne " she said, fixing her icy stare on the two women standing at the foot of the bed. "I got rid of the king and of his little brat. The least that one of you could have done was gotten rid of the other. Really, is premeditated murder that hard?"

"Mother, is that really necessary?" the dark-haired one asked. "Couldn't you just choose — "

"Of course you would want her to choose!" the red-headed one interrupted. "She always has favored you over me. And we both know that if we followed  _tradition_ that it should be  _me_. After all, I am older."

"And yet my father was of a higher station! Surely that should mean — "

"Enough!" Cora said sternly before breaking into a violent fit of coughing. "All that matters now," she continued once she finally regained her composure, "is that I am about to die and Misthaven will not have a queen once I do. And since neither one of you seems capable of killing the other, I've come up with another way to settle this."

Reaching behind her head, Cora unclasped the necklace that adorned her neck. In the middle of the large rope of gold sat a clear stone that was just slightly smaller than a closed fist. The candlelight of the room bounced off of it, causing it to glow and giving it an almost ethereal quality. Cora stared at the stone for a moment, caressing it gently, before beckoning her daughters to come forward.

"This will be the test to determine who becomes the ruler of this land," she said, waving her hand over the stone and causing it to float. She waved her hand again and the doors on the opposite side of the room opened to reveal a small balcony that jutted out into the night. "Whoever retrieves this stone first," she whispered, "will become the rightful queen of Misthaven. May the more worthy sister prevail," she said. With a final flick of her wrist, the stone shot forward and out the door, speeding upward in the direction of the heavens. Both sisters rushed out to the balcony to watch as the necklace traveled higher and higher, eventually leaving their sight.

But although the women could not see it, the stone had not stopped moving. It traveled higher and higher, not stopping until it had left the surface of the earth altogether. Eventually it met resistance from something and came crashing back down, glowing even more brightly than it had been before. Both sisters gasped when they saw it come crashing down to earth once more, landing somewhere beyond the horizon.

They stared after it for a while longer, both contemplating where it could have possibly landed, before heading back to the bed, each taking one of their mother's hands, knowing it would not be long now before she would be gone and their quest would begin. Sure enough, scarcely ten minutes later, Cora's eyes slid shut and her chest became still, leaving Misthaven without a ruler for the first time in its history. The sisters stood there together quietly for a while longer until a high-pitched giggle broke the silence.

"Well, sis," Zelena said, smiling somewhat maniacally. "This ought to be fun."

Regina rolled her eyes in annoyance, as she turned on her heel and began to stomp out of the room. She had work to do now, after all. "Yes, I suppose it ought to be," she said sarcastically under her breath.

~/~

Emma sat next to Neal, the bite of his rejection still stinging at her heart, staring determinedly at the ground and fighting the lump that was threatening to form in her throat. She was desperately trying to think of a graceful way to extricate herself from the situation. She had already made a fool of herself, and she didn't want to do anything to make it worse. Fortunately, the awkwardness was broken when Neal pointed up to the sky.

"Look, Emma!" he exclaimed. "A shooting star!"

Emma rolled her eyes, thinking that Neal had probably just gotten overexcited over a stupid plane. But when she looked up, she realized that it was indeed a shooting star that was streaking across the sky. It was bright, almost certainly brighter than anything that Emma had ever seen before. _It has to be close by_ , she reasoned.  _Nothing else can explain why it's glowing so brightly_.

She watched — completely and utterly fascinated — as it traveled across the sky, its light eventually fading as it hit the ground. She realized that it had probably landed just beyond the Brooke, which gave her a wonderful idea.

"Neal," she said quickly, not giving herself time to overthink her plan. "For you to go to prom with me, I'd cross the Brooke and I'd bring you back that fallen star," she said hurriedly, holding her breath as she waited for his reply.

Neal began laughing and she fought the urge to huff in annoyance. "You can't cross the Brooke, Emma," he said patronizingly. " _No one_  crosses the Brooke," he said, his expression sobering slightly when he saw the serious expression on her face. "Besides, it's probably not even a real star. It's probably just a random piece of space rock."

"I know that," Emma conceded. "But think about how cool that would be to have!" she said, refusing to give up just yet. "And the fact that I'd do something as crazy as crossing the Brooke has got to show how much I want to be with you. I know that it shows it better than a trip to  _Portland_  ever could!"

Neal was quiet for a moment, clearly contemplating what she had just said. A moment later a small smile spread across his face.

"My very own star," he said, a note of excitement creeping into his voice. "I kind of like the sound of that," he said, causing Emma's spirits to lift. "You've got yourself a deal, Emma," he continued. "I was planning on asking Tamara to prom next Friday, but if you can bring the star back to me before then, I'll go with you instead."

Emma smiled in response. It seemed as though she had better begin planning for a trip across the Brooke. She had a star to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! Thank you for all of the kudos/reviews :)

**Author's Note:**

> Review?


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